Of heartache, heartbreak, and hearts in general
by night-skies
Summary: DG the title says it all, huh?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: No money is being made off of this piece of writing. All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and the publishers and editors and etc. Not me. Only the plot belongs to me (or to be specific, Steph. see authors note at bottom.) Also, we have like no money. So suing is worthless.

Note: OOC. ish. Not so much that you can't enjoy it, but there are a lot of non-hp world things present. I talked Steph into posting it cause we all know its a good story. :)

* * *

It was too much for poor Ginny Weasley's heart to bear. As she sits sprawled out on her floor crying, she recalls a recent conversation she had with her... boyfriend...? Former boyfriend? Who knows what she is to him now. He wants a "break," whatever that means. A little voice in the back of her mind told her it meant an open relationship, with her as a sure fuck. She disregards that thought, positive she knows him better than that. He has been distant recently though. Very distant. She noticed small changes in the way he talked to her even though he denied it. He never talks to her. She is always left guessing what is wrong, and surely there is something... 

Ginny begins to feel like a failure; like she never played her role as his girlfriend well enough. He tells her he loves her, but is he bored with her? Does he need something more? Someone better? She begins to cry harder. Sure, she's been played by guys before, she's cried over guys before, but never like this. These tears feel like they came straight from the deepest part of her soul.

He has many admirers, she knows this. They always call him, leave him little messages where she can see, and honestly, she can't blame them. He's smart, successful, and not bad to look at either; it would be easy to just up and leave plain old Ginny for someone prettier, older, or with more experience. It wouldn't take much, since there are more than enough women to choose from. But would he? Or does he love her like he says he does? How could he with so many women throwing themselves at him, with him not doing anything to stop them?

Her crying becomes unbearable now. He doesn't include her in his life anymore. Their split was only a few days ago, but it feels like he's months ahead of her in the recovery stage. It didn't seem to faze him at all. Nothing ever fazes him. His emotion is expertly masked behind cold grey eyes and a sarcastic smirk. Words don't seem to be enough for her anymore, how can she be sure he means them? Does he say the things he says out of habit? She wishes she knew what he was thinking... she wishes he would just talk to her...

She ends up falling asleep on the cold wood floor of her dorm, surrounded by numerous tissues, the letter he wrote her, and her cell phone in her lap in hopes she might get a late night call from her beloved.

* * *

The door to a ritzy uptown flat opened to reveal a rather disheveled looking blonde haired man. Looking at his watch he snorts in disbelief. 2:00 AM. He had worked all night. All he wanted to do now was go to his room and crash. Dragging his feet the entire way, he flopped onto his bed fully dressed and stared upward at the ceiling. 

After Draco had finished school, he had bought out a small corporation as an investment and ended up running it pretty much single-handedly. He changed the business from "small corporation" to one of its rivals' top competitors. While this meant financial success, it also meant long hard hours at the office. His father wasn't of much assistance these days either. Sure, he still had his money, but sometime during the war, he was found in a ditch rambling something about a lunatic in a chicken suit carrying a giant cupcake and was declared mentally unstable, for reasons unknown to Draco. Note the sarcasm. It is completely understandable for the young man to be bitter about his father, as he is the one taking care of him and feeding him carrots through a straw, while trying to juggle his new business since his mother is busy, away taking care of his fathers other affairs.

Closing his eyes and cursing his luck, he hears a slight beep from the nightstand next to his bed. Looking over, he sees his lonely cell phone that he forgot to bring with him this morning. It was flashing red, meaning he has a message. Ginny. His Ginny. Now 2:30 in the morning, way too late to call her back, he listens to his message and his heart skips a beat. Due to his current life situation, he found he had no time for his girlfriend. He always let her down, making false promises to visit and not showing up, or not calling her enough. She told him that she wasn't disappointed, but he knew she was. He knew it because he himself was disappointed. He always looked forward to seeing her, but work always got in the way. Right now he wanted nothing more than to have her lying next to him, but instead, only days ago, he had to let her go, even if it were only for a short while. He couldn't bear to keep hurting her, and to keep disappointing her. He needed to focus on work before play.

But gods, did he love her. Sure there were women now. Plenty of them. One for every day of the year, were he to choose so. He went out with these women, but was unsure why. Maybe to fill a void, maybe because he doesn't want to stop living his life (as mean as that sounds). But compared to her, they were only obscure forms of women. Meaningless. With her, he had history. He had definition. And even though he didn't know what she was thinking half the time, he seemed to know everything all of the time. A sentence that can only make sense if you've ever been in love.

It killed him that day, when he told her he needed time to himself, mostly because he knew she didn't fully understand, and he knew he had hurt her. He doesn't particularly like the lurching feeling in his gut every time he sees her cry, so he had chosen to tell her by letter. He knew it was the wrong thing to do, but quite frankly he didn't want to hear her argue, because he knew she'd win. She always wins. Sometimes he resents her for it. But he loves her nonetheless.

Taking off his clothes and sliding under the covers, he starts to think. Could he really handle it if she were to tell him she went out with another guy? Sure, he flirts with other women shamelessly, but he knows it doesn't mean anything. Suddenly, he feels a pain in his chest, as if jealousy was a knife, and that knife had just stabbed him in the heart. Ginny. His Ginny. With another man... no. Couldn't happen... but what if...

And that was his last thought as he drifted into a sleep he knew would only last him about 4 hours, only to get up the next morning and do it all over again.

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Author's note: I didn't write this particular fanfic (I being night-skies). My good friend did, and I beta-d for her. I'm posting it here with her permission so people can read it. :) You can email her at and her aim is sweetxdreams71. I'll also be sure to pass along all comments and she has access to this account now as well if she wants to reply to any comments. That's all. 


	2. Chapter 2

Coming to the next morning, Ginny rolled over, her eyes still closed. It would hurt to open them right away, because a film that has formed between her eyelids from last night's tears. She stretched out, slowly opening her eyes to realize she was exactly where she had fallen asleep, on the floor. The only difference was that she had a blanket thrown over her and a note next to her head. She opened the note which read:

Gin-

Left for class. I didn't want to wake you, you looked awful :-(  
See you in class.

-your wonderful dorm mate.  
(you know you love me!)

It took a while for Ginny to realize what this note really meant. She was late for class. She shot up faster than you can say 'late for class'. Any other class she would have just skipped, but not this one. This particular class was taught by the Spawn of Satan himself. He was cold, mean, sarcastic and unforgiving and Ginny was already failing. If she were to miss a day, she would be 4 days behind...

Now fully dressed, she grabbed her backpack and dashed out the door. Glancing at her watch she muttered a small obscenity and carried on running. As she drew closer to her classroom she slowed her pace. She thought, being 15 minutes late, it would be a good idea to try to slip in undetected. Turning the corner, the door to her classroom came into view. She felt her heart start to beat a little quicker. As she opened the door she heard him lecturing to the class. She walked in as quietly as she could, even though she knew it was in vain as all eyes were on her. After the dead silent "walk of shame" to her seat, he resumed his lecture, even though he was still eying her with his harsh stare.

As class moved along swiftly, as it always does, Ginny realized that not only was she late, but she, as had half the class, had not remembered the multiple essays due that day. To top that off, the work she had turned in was returned to her with low marks. Nothing was ever good enough for that man. By the end of class, she felt like crying in frustration and anger at not only her evil, evil professor, but at herself for letting him get to her again.

The rest of the day passed her by in a hazy blur. Her other classes went without event, but she couldn't stay focused. She carried on, made small talk with friends, showcased that wonderfully sarcastic wit of hers (picked up from you know who) on more than one occasion, and was generally pleasant, despite the happenings of that morning and her unnecessary episode from the previous night. She realized that now. It WAS unnecessary. She knows him. She knows he loves her and cares about her. She knows he needs time, and she understands it. But the thoughts... they just, happen. Without reason or warning, something sparks a thought and there she is crying on the floor again. She begins to think she IS crazy. Insane. Mental. Bipolar even. It seems fitting enough... or maybe... maybe she is just lonely. Lonely for him.

She is pulled out of her thoughts by someone or another talking about a party tonight. Contemplating this, Ginny starts to think a party might be good for her. It would get her out of her dorm, and keep her mind off of her loneliness. Plus, this is her last year of school; she might as well live it up. No reason to sit and sulk. With this as her motivation, she raced to her dorm to quadruple check the work due for her 'favorite' professor's class and get ready to parr-tay, even though she knew where her mind would be all night...

* * *

Some time around 7:00 A.M. an alarm sounds in the furthest corner of Draco's room. He puts his alarm in the corner farthest from him so he has to get up to turn it off. While this system of his gets him up, it doesn't make him any less hostile. Skulking over to turn off his alarm, he trips over his jeans from the previous night, and ends up stubbing his toe on the foot of his bed. Yes, this is going to be a fine day indeed, just like all the rest of them. He finally makes it to his alarm clock which seemed to be mocking him throughout the entire ordeal to shut it off. He grabs a towel and starts to make his way towards the bathroom down the hall. On his way, he notices the shape of his flat... not good. There were take-out containers strewn about the kitchen, dirty clothes thrown around his living room from those nights he doesn't make it to his room and ends up stripping and sleeping on the couch. In short, his poor flat was in desperate need of a cleaning. He decides that as soon as he gets in to work, he will hire a maid.

Now in the bathroom, he turns on the shower full blast, so hot that the mirrors immediately reacted to the steam. Stepping in, he allowed the boiling water to awaken his senses. Bracing himself on the wall with his arms, he allows his muscles relax as the water streams down his finely sculpted back. He stayed in this position for quite some time, thinking. Today was one of his days to see his father at the hospital, not something he usually looked forward to. His mind turned to the night before and his last thought before he fell asleep, but he quickly turned his thoughts to something less... depressing. He had to be at the top of his game on the days he has to see his father. He never knew what to expect. Last time, he was called Marco, and told he looked smashing in his tux. He was not wearing a tux. After that, they had played a game of "guess how many grapes I can fit in my mouth at once", which lasted majority of the visit. Not only was his father a handful in himself, poor Draco had to suffice to dealing with the comments from people whom think his situation is worth laughing at. Draco always had to deal with criticism in school on his own, since he never had any real friends, and now that he was out of school it was no different. Every time he walks into the hospital, the usual people, old classmates who now work there, whisper and giggle, saying he deserves everything he gets. This makes him bitter. Really, no one deserves to be in this predicament. But Draco sucks it up and carries on, hurt pride and all.

Even though he has turned off the water, he still stands there, paralyzed by a combination of his thoughts and his exhaustion. Finally getting out, he makes his way to his room and gets dressed and ready to leave for the hospital. Fully dressed he walks toward his nightstand to retrieve his cell phone and to choose one of the many expensive watches littering the small table. Glancing over the surface, one stands out in particular. Its the one Ginny gave him the day he graduated. Whenever they were together, he'd always ask her the time because he was too lazy to look himself, so she bought it for him as sort of a joke. It was not as glitzy and glam as his other ones. What seemed expensive to her was like change to him. It didn't matter. It came from Ginny out of love and playfulness. Opening the clasp he saw the script. Love you, Ginny. No clever phrase or witty joke. Simply her name. That made that watch worth more to him than any other he could possibly own. Securing it on his wrist, he grabbed his keys and walked out the door for another long day...


End file.
